


something more than (what it seems)

by orphan_account



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, force sensitive! reader, that’s why the reader has a personality, this is my self insert fic that i call a x reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was a Mandolorian, a shining beskar clad warrior.You swallow hard, that sense of dread returning at full force.He falters, gun hoisted at your forehead.He can almost touch the impression that you are different, that there is something dangerously important and special about you.or, mando (unknowingly) picks up a force sensitive reader who takes care of the child(after season one)
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76





	1. first impressions

You walk around, marveling at the way the sun dances around in the trees, transforming the crispy grass into a brown golden meadow. 

You hum happily, bending down to look at the little insects crawling on your dropped bag. 

Something in your stomach drops, a feeling of proximity making your hands shake. 

But you follow the feeling, you sense that it is important. 

You stumble onto a clearing, a ship pressing into the hard dry soil around it. 

The hatch is open, the ship inside dark inside. 

You wander closer, fist raised in a facade of physical strength. 

There is a soft mewing sound behind you, then a giggle. 

You look down and see a small green.. child? 

He holds a small slug like creature, it’s small three fingered hands clutching the slimy thing tightly. 

“Well hello there little one..” you say, bending down to greet the little creature. 

You suspend your hands at his eye level, fingers wiggling playfully. 

“What’s your name?” 

He drops his slug, both of his tiny hands now grasping your two fingers. 

Something jolts through your body, a tickling feeling dancing across your spine.  
You gasp quietly, knowing what he means. 

“Your like me..?” You say, barely above a whisper in the wind. 

You feel something cold press against your neck, something unwelcome and distressing. 

“Get away from him.” says a gruff modulated voice from behind you.

You slowly turn around, raising your hands in surrender. 

“I- I’m not going to hurt him..” You say softly, trailing off when you see your apprehender. 

It was a Mandolorian, a shining beskar clad warrior. 

You swallow hard, that sense of dread returning at full force. 

He falters, gun hoisted at your forehead.  
He can almost touch the impression that you are different, that there is something dangerously important and special about you. 

You in his farther away from him, confused at why he hesitated. 

You decide to test the waters with a simple question 

“Is he yours?” 

The Mandolorian shakes his head, then looks down to see the small green being hugging your leg, it’s large expression filled eyes gazing up with an intensity that would fit a battle hardened adult, not a fresh faced child. 

You kneel down, cooing at the small creature  
You lift your eyes to the motionless soldier standing over you. 

“What’s his name?” 

He stays silent for a moment, then responds with a simple 

“He doesn’t have one” 

You open your mouth then close it, not wanting to anger the large figure. 

You babble with the child, playing with him and his various stones and sticks, praising him for finding your hidden ring. 

He watches you, immobile and attentive. 

The child enjoys your company, you have bonded in a way that he cannot begin to fathom.  
He is drawn to you, he feels calm in your presence. 

He clears his throat, stepping closer to your hunkered form. 

You turn around, smile bright and cheeks flushed from the heat. 

“I need a caregiver.. for the child.” He says slowly, testing his offer as it rolls off his tongue.  
“I would pay you well.. and you could stay on the ship with us.” 

Your eyes grow wide at the offer,  
and you are about to decline when you think of the feeling in your stomach, the feeling of importance. 

“The child..” You breathe 

“Yes. I will.” You say, surprised at how confident your voice sounds, when inside you are a current of emotions, each one rolling over the other. 

He extends his hand, helping you up and sealing your fate.  
—————


	2. so small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:   
> reader has small panic attack type thing, be wary

m?c2 

“This can be your room.” He says, waving his arms into a empty room. 

“Sounds wonderful!” you say happily, patting the child in your arms. 

You hear a modulated sigh from the helmet, a usually organic full noise is replaced with a strange crackling sound. 

—————-

You put your bag down, landing with a big flat thump. 

You begin picking your trinkets out of the bag, each one meaningless to someone else, but carry a small but notable little story. 

You hear a shuffle behind you, but you sensed his presence minutes before he made you aware of his proximity. 

“Hello!” You say, still clutching one of your stones. 

He tilts his head to one side, like a puppy you noted.   
“You brought.. rocks?” he asks, his accent thick and rough. 

“Yes-“ you say, how feeling silly. 

But you don’t defend your actions, now flipping the stone over and over in your palm, a nervous habit when you have something in your hand. 

You hear a small crash to your left outside your door, and the Mandalorian jumps into action, softly scolding the child for knocking over a crate. 

You chuckle, already sensing a soft side to the beskar clad man. 

————-

You hum, hands stretched out and wiggling in the air.   
“I’m gonna find you...” You say softly, overturning things and looking behind crates. 

You hear a giggling sound behind you and you encounter a green child holding up a silver ball. 

“Whatchya got there?” 

It just babbles in respond, sticking it’s small fingers into its mouth.   
“Can you show it to me?” He huffs, hiding the shiny thing in its cloak. 

“Fine-“ you sniff, crossing your arms and feigning annoyance. 

He gurgles, toddling toward you, holding out the sphere.   
“Oh now you want to give it to me?” You ask sarcastically, stretching out the ‘o’ sound in now. 

You pick the child up, inspecting the silver ball  
“This... looks important..” You mumble, noticing the place where you could screw it on to something. 

“Let’s go find your dad, alright?” you say, lightly rocking the child back and forth.   
He claps, seeming to understand what you said. 

——————

“Mando?” You say, peeking inside the cockpit. 

He doesn’t move, just sits silently facing the window. 

“Mando?” you say, louder this time. 

“Yes?” He says, the edges of his words fuzzy and rough. 

“The child has something that looks important...” you say, holding out the silver sphere. 

A coarse noise escapes his modulator, one you cannot decipher from a sigh or a gasp. 

You drop it in his gloved hand, it’s soft leather wrinkling as he clutches it tightly. 

He screws it onto a joystick, the ball serving as a grip. 

The child open and closes its hands, requesting for the mandalorian to pick him up. 

The armor clad man bends down, his large hands wrapping around his small form.   
“You can leave” He says to you,  
But you don’t exactly hear him,   
It doesn’t register in your mind as you look at the passing stars, 

You suddenly feel so small, a cold feeling wrapping around your shivering form.   
you feel something drain out of you, the small feeling of importance that you had left. 

You swallow hard, turning a round and leaving quickly, wanting to get away from the stiflingly small feeling in your chest fighting with the sense that you are getting stretched out and smooshed together again like putty. 

———————-


	3. only temporary,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry its so short, but at least he called u pretty!

You silently grab the boxed food from the crate, now calmed from your previous realization and panic. 

The mandalorian stands behind you, leaning against the cold metal wall. The child plays around his feet, specifically holding a small plush you gifted it, knowing he would cherish it more than you could. 

He takes a breath, steeling himself for any possible reaction as he delves forward into a line he knew he was going to cross.   
“No matter how small you feel, just know someone out there is feeling the exact same way as you”  
He says this with no context, but you understand its meaning as soon as the words leave his mouth,   
“Thank you” you mutter, still holding the box of lettuce and beets. 

“Would you like to eat with me?” you ask, but then realize your error  
“Oh I'm sorry- '' but he cuts you off before you can finish with words even though he didn't know what he was going to say.   
“Yes.” 

Your eyes widen, then your face splits into a smile,   
“Alright!”

You munch in a one sidedly tense silence, the mandalorians shoulders a straight line of hard muscle and built up tension.   
You can sense his discomfort from your side of the table and attempt to lighten the mood.  
“Is the child yours?”   
“Not biologically.”

You erase the vision of an older, much taller version of the child hidden under the shiny helmet. 

“Where did you adopt him then?” you asl, hoping you are not being intrusive

Mando pauses, never having thought about what he has with the child as adoption, but then he realizes that he did, in fact, adopt the child.

“He.. was a bounty before.” he says, not understanding why he trusts you

You laugh, the sound sending sparks flying at the pit of his stomach. But when the other man in the room stays silent you stop,   
“Wait your kidding right? That child was a bounty?”   
This confuses and saddens you, how can a child of such a young age be a bounty, was he originally going to be killed? Was he going to be sold for money? 

The mandalorian could sense something in the air, a sort of sudden anguish that filled his lungs. He is puzzled, wondering where and why he can sense this emotion so strongly and so suddenly. 

You clear your throat, rubbing your eyes and sayin you are going to go get some sleep,  
“You can take care of the baby right?” you ask, cheeks flushing at how intimate and family like the sentence sounds.  
“Yes” he answers, slightly distracted by the light blush scattered on your cheeks like a sunset, beautiful and brief. 

“Goodnight!” you say cheerily, leaving the mandalorian to shove down his recurring feelings, claiming that all it is is an aesthetic attraction, one that will fade in the next few days.


	4. he must have a name

But the feelings of attraction don't leave.   
They were small before, but after a few months of living with you they have grown, grown into something tough to hide in that small corner of his mind, the one dedicated to all his past and present longing and regret.   
Sometimes they will ebb away, only to come crashing down on him when you enter the room. He tries to ignore them most of the time, claiming they are fake. But it is getting increasingly difficult to discount them. 

He finds it especially challenging to shove them aside when you are playing with the child.   
You always look so happy and at ease when you are doing so, giggling and babbling along with the baby, making shapes with your hand and showing the child which fabrics are best to cuddle with, which is something he has taken an extreme fascination and liking to.

Other times he will lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, his vision natural and uninhibited by the beskar helmet he usually wears.  
He will think about your smile, how it makes his heart flip, or how wherever you casually touch him his stomach drops. 

You don't realize how much you affect the warrior, but you do notice his new composition around you changes.   
He was tense before, not trusting your bubbly compsior, but then your calming aura rubbed off on him, your presence alone making him feel more relaxed and a bit less on edge.   
He considers that this could be a problem, but also there is no one stupid enough to attack a mandalorian ship. 

\---------------

You watch as the mandalorian leaves the ship, his cape billowing in the artificial breeze created by the opening of the door. 

“Be safe!” you yell at him, waving your hand above your head as the other holds the child close to your chest. 

Lately you have been feeling different towards the mandalorian, something unexpected.   
You try to tell yourself you shouldn't fall for the faceless man who helped you, but you know it is a fruitless attempt. 

You catch yourself looking at him while he cleans his occasional wounds, offering up your hands to help him.   
You don't tell him that you concentrate and try to help him heal, making the fabric of his muscles and blood cells work in your favor. 

You are worried that he will find out of your powers, that he will kick you out at the nearest planet, or worse, use you for his work.   
These thoughts terrify you, but you know somewhere in the back of your brain that he would never do that.   
Or maybe that sense of knowing is just you attempting to grapple onto a sense of security to the impeding and inevitable future 

You mumble soft secrets to the green child, absentmindedly twirling your finger against the fabric of your clothes.   
You know the child cannot understand you, but it feels good to tell someone, to tell something your little secret.   
He cocks his ears at the mention of the word mando, and you smile  
“Oh you hear your dad's name?” he giggles in response, making grabby hands at you.   
You pick him up and think about something you haven't thought of before. 

The mandalorians name.   
He must have a name, something he used to be called by. The word that was given to him at birth, assigned to his being.   
You know that this is highly personal information in the mandalorian creed, but you can't help but wonder and wish,   
What if he told me his name? And then added with extra sincerity and cold emphasis,   
What if he told me his name?


	5. kar'taylir

smtwisc5 

You run around the ship, chasing the, faster than before, child. 

he giggles and babbles, his arms sway song with the pitter patter of his feet. 

You ground the corner quickly, not wanting to loose the green child amongst the boxes. 

You slam into the mandalorians cold armor, your forehead splitting open painfully. 

Blood runs into your eyes as the warrior stables and frets over you.   
But you aren’t focusing on him, as the child is about to run into the open engine hatch, it’s contents humming and glowing menacingly. 

“Kriff-“ you sputter, not thinking as you use your powers to lift him up and turn him away from the hatch.   
Then you freeze, covered in blood and fear strong in your eyes. 

Mando senses this, the sting of anger fading into worry and shock as he watches you shake. 

Blood is dripping into your eyes from the gash on your forehead as you watch him. 

Then you burst out, attempting to grapple with apologies, explanations and pleads.

“I am sorry- I didn’t want you to kick me out- I-“ 

“It’s fine.” He says gruffly, his words quite and harsh.

————- 

You sit silently as he fixes up your wound, it’s mild but it bled quite a lot. 

Your shirt is stained with it, and you can feel your eyelids growing heavy. 

You feel as if you need to explain, so you try to do so in your slurred sleepy state. 

“I couldn’t get a job for months. I couldn’t pay for my rent, and it was all because of my ‘powers’. So I had to hide it for most of my life to pay for my basic living needs- Thats why I didn’t tell you.” 

There is a pause, then he responds with a sad, but not pitying   
“I’m sorry.” 

You stay silent for the rest of the time, the energy draining out of you even quicker now.   
Even that small act of the force depleted your spirit and vigor, and that topped with your blood loss. 

Din notices this and shuffles your slumping form toward him more, propping you up on his shoulder as he continues to clean your forehead.

“Sleep kar'taylir” he mumbles, the whisper staticky from his helmet. 

The words register in your brain, but you don’t fret after their meaning. 

He knows that the words are risky, but he says it anyway.   
He needs some way to communicate the love he feels for you.

He watches you sleep, your shirt sliding off your shoulder ever so slightly.  
The front of it was stained with now dry blood, the edges bending in a crisp rough turn. 

He stays silent, stony cold and frozen.   
He doesn’t want to wake you, and he attempts to not enjoy this, or notice how cute you are as you sleep peacefully. 

“Sleep kar'taylir” he repeats, giving in to the temptation as he wraps his gloved hand around your own.


	6. stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry its so short! the next one hopefully willl b better!

Din watches as you stir a bit, eyes and nose scrunching briefly before relaxing out again, brows drawn a bit tighter than before. 

He can tell that the stolen moment of bliss was over, that he needed to withdrawal himself from you his heart encased in metal once more,   
That you would soon wake to find him gone, fretting over the child once more pretending that he isn't full heartedly and painfully in love with you. 

He took his gloved hand from yours, which he noticed had clasped tighter the longer you slept. 

He carefully propped you against the wall, avoiding hurting you any further. 

Your forehead looked better now that it was clean, it should heal in a few weeks.

He feels relatively responsible for your wound, but he knows it wasn't anyone's fault, just an accident. 

But what worries him is your powers.   
Could people be after you, just like they were after the child?   
How strong are you?   
You seemed quite exhausted after saving the child, so he assumes it takes a toll on you  
He needs to ask you these once you wake up, make sure that he doesn't need to look behind you at every turn and stop. 

\------------------

He asks you these things as you stand, still completely astonished he didn't kick you out, or worse.   
You assured him that there was nothing to be afraid of and that no one knew about your ‘powers’

The child was perched on your lap the whole time, his fingers wiggling in the air. 

“Do you know.. About the child's powers?” you ask, eyes downcast at the small baby in question 

“Yes” 

He doesn't elaborate and you dont push, knowing he will tell you in time.


	7. kih

He eventually does tell you what he knows about the child's powers,   
Telling you about the times he has saved him,   
How he is now part of his clan, his family. 

You offhandedly wonder if you are part of his tribe, but you dismiss the thought immediately after.   
It still threatens to burst out of your closed lips as it burns in the back of your mind. 

He tells his stories in a few words, but the narrative is clean cut and easy to understand. 

You realize that the little one is much stronger than you first thought, and it worries you.   
This is why they were after the child, he is strong, he is irreplaceable. 

“They aren't- still coming after you are they?” you ask, your tone thicky laced with anxiety. 

He can hear it, no- he can feel it in the air as you ask it. 

“I'm sure..” he says slowly, a small tilt of his beskar helmet accompanied by the confirmation. 

You find this cute, even though you cannot see the man behind the mask you find this quality endearing, like a curious loth cat awaiting something.   
You weakly smile, the answer only assuring you slightly as could he truly know? 

You continue discussing the child, the ways to care for it now that you all know of its abilities and everything is revealed.   
But then you suddenly burst out with a quick, 

“It should have a name-!”   
You quickly attempt to cover up your blunder with apologies and explanations, but the mandalorian just stays silent and watches you. 

“Kih” is all he says, the word short and pronounced in a way only a mandalorian could say it. 

With an air of grace and old stories, but also gruff and a bit harsh.   
The mando'a language is like this, it is conflicting two great sides of the powerful creed. 

“What does that mean?” you ask, your curiosity peaked. 

“Small” 

You chuckle at his choice, but accept the name anyway, it gives the small one a bit of identity and something to go by, something to be drawn to. 

“Kih it is!” you say happily, giving kih a boop on the nose.   
You attempt to shove don=w the feeling of secure homeyness, the feeling that you are home.   
This isn't normal, he is a bounty hunting mandalorian and you are a power wielding caretaker.   
Nothing about this is normal.   
Although maybe that's the reason you consider it home.


	8. the new name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry this took so long and is so short, i really am

You and your mandalorian companion are getting used to the child's new name, as he is himself.

For the first few weeks he didn't respond, only gazed at you with his all seeing eyes, not understanding your request. 

Eventually he begins to associate himself with the name, whenever you give him a kiss or praise him you are sure to add a happy little   
“Kih!” to top it off, applying something much more meaningful than just the title of   
‘The child’   
Or   
‘Kid’

Although mando still calls kih this, but much less frequently now, more like a fond nickname or an old habit yet to be broken.

He has become more trusting in you, oddly enough.

Most people's reaction to you and your abilities would be to shut you off, report you or even turn you in in hopes for a bounty.   
But he treats you like a human being, a normal one at that.

He still offers to get anything out of your reach, even though he knows you can get it for yourself. 

You understand this means something, you understand that the sudden thickness in the air between the both of you means something, but you don't understand what.  
It's something you can ignore for the meantime, but soon it may become too stifling to push away.


	9. Chapter 9

I WILL BE TAKING A BREAK FROM THIS FOR A BIT   
I MIGHT UPDATE RANDOMLY 

I APOLOGIZE


End file.
